The Asmara Jugar the Mafia
Trapped

Don Vargas and a few people outside, rushed in following the direction of his men's voices. Instantly, the rancid smell of blood pierced the sense of smell of all who were inside there. “What the fuck is this?” don Vargas' eyes widened to see the splashing blood stains almost flat covering the walls of the building are white. But the color of the blood began to fade. “Is this the former site of the war-era massacre, Don?” ask one of his men carefully.

“No,” Don Vargas bent over and rubbed bloodstains on that wall with the tip of his fingers. “The scent of blood will disappear after so many years. Obviously these stains and pungent smells indicate that this blood is still new,” he continued.

“Stay alert,” firmly Don Vargas while pointing the index finger at all his men.

“Don!” call Pedro again who was a little far ahead of Don Vargas. “I found something,” the young man pointed to one of the doors located at the end of the hallway. Be careful when he enters the room.

Don Vargas followed from behind with the rest of the men. The two hands of the man tightly held the pistol brandished in all directions. The look on his face was even more tense when in the room, he saw a lot of flat-screen monitors stuck in all corners of the room. In the middle of the room there is a panel table that is elongated. The table was full of buttons of unknown function.

“What the fuck is this?” his jolt as he looked at the one monitor screen that recorded all the movements since he and his troops arrived at the Black Tower.

“Someone's watching us, Don. Apparently we are not alone in this place, ” sis Pedro with a feeling of anxiety.

“Means that I was right. Nenad is still in this place. He never left the Black Tower. That's why we can't find him anywhere,” fumed Don Vargas. His eyes then switched on another monitor that contained a recording of the entire corner of the Black Tower area. He stopped on one of the monitors that displayed an elongated-shaped building and was at the very front. It was the closest thing to the wall.

Don Vargas squinted his eyes. He looked carefully at the picture on the screen. “Do you guys see it?” ask the man suddenly.

“See what, Don?” Pedro asked back.

“Look at that screen. I saw movement,” he replied with a grin.

“Then what should we do, Don?” the thin and tall man started to open his voice.

“We comb the building! My instinct told me that there was something hiding inside there,” without waiting for a response from his men, Don Vargas passed out of the room just like that. Half-running, he headed towards the building in question earlier.

The old building looked so haunted. The entire side of the wall was like a charred burn and blackish in color. Don Vargas opened the main door of the building by kicking it tight, until one of the two door leaves collapsed instantly. However, the atmosphere was so quiet inside. Too quiet, to make Don Vargas suspicious. “Where did they hide the camera that was watching us? Did they intentionally let us in?” his hiss was slow and then silent. He seemed to think for a while before looking up. Highlight his sharp eyes he pointed at Pedro who had already moved down door by door inside the building.

“Pedro! Get back in here! It looks like a trap!” exclaim Don Vargas later. However, the warning was late. Pedro had just taken one step, a bullet shot out of nowhere and went straight through Don Vargas' man's forehead. Pedro collapsed after being able to fire his gun in all directions.

“Damn it!” aspat Don Vargas. While his other men form a circle around the man to protect him. They were all in a alert and alert position. “We're completely framed! They did deliberately let us get inside here!” don Vargas shouted as he directed his men to the outside of the building.

However, just one foot Don Vargas stepped on the grassy ground outside the building, one of his men who was behind was also shot by a bullet that was again unknown origin. He died instantly, while the blood coming from the poor man's left chest splashed to the white Don Vargas shirt.

“Job!” Don Vargas abandoned his intention to leave the old building. He went back in and fired shots in all directions. Some bullets went through blackened walls and ceilings. His men followed what he was doing, shooting in all directions. However, there was no sign that the bullet had hit anyone.

Don Vargas chose to shut up for a moment and think. He thought again about changing his strategy. The man then looked up and began to pay more careful attention to his surroundings. The first floor of the building contained only rooms separated by barriers made of thin walls and equipped with doors that were all closed. Only one door was open, because before Pedro died he opened it. The roof ceiling also does not look like a hole.

“Don,” calls one of his men who is tall and thin. Don Vargas looked over, then smiled.

“Are you thinking what I think?” tanyakanya.

“The shot that killed Pedro came from in front of his body. It was proven from the bullet hole located right in the middle of the forehead,” said the tall man.

“That means the shooter is coming from behind us,” replies Don Vargas who is so sure, because the position of Pedro at that time faced each other with him. Simultaneously, Don Vargas' men turned around and opened fire on the closed doors that were in front of him.

The tall man who was now standing next to Don Vargas, started to fret. He was already preparing to fire his weapon, but Don Vargas prevented it. ”Save your bullets! Looks like we have a lot of enemies here,” his advice.

“There was more than one person shooting at us, Don,” said the tall, mustachioed man.

“Yes, I know,” calmly, Don Vargas swept a glance once more. This time, he did not want anything to be missed from his observation. “There,” whispered Don Vargas down. His fingers pointed straight at a large human painting. The painting is on one of the walls.

“That human painting, Don?” his remaining men one man whispered back.

“Pura-purpose don't know,” said Don Vargas. With lightning fast he ran towards the room whose door had been broken earlier, then hid there. His men intend to follow Don Vargas' steps, but must come to a halt when a bullet flies from the side and pierces the neck.

Now, Don Vargas is pretty sure the shots came from behind the giant painting. With a quick motion, he popped his head and hands from inside the room and shot the painting to pieces. Before long, a lifeless body emerged from the painting and collapsed with multiple gunshot wounds.

Don Vargas was convinced that there were still a lot of gunmen who were after him, so he chose to stay in the strange room earlier. He retreated from the room without the door and tried to sit for a while on the iron bed. Don Vargas intends to reorganize his strategy. One right hand held the corner of the bed and rested his palm there.

However, he accidentally pressed the button on the corner surface of the bed, making the floor he was on vibrate, then shifted. Similarly, the bed he was sitting on, suddenly split due to the shifting of the floor earlier. Unprepared and also lost balance Don Vargas fell to the gaping floor. His body hit a hard, taper surface that turned out to be a small rung of stairs. He stopped rolling when he was on the last rung. Without feeling any pain, the man immediately stood up and again aimed for the weapon. However, how surprised he was when he saw the figure of someone standing right in front of him while grinning. “Ka-you!” geram Don Vargas's.

“How are you, Boss?” he said while chuckling softly.

“What are you doing here?” ask Don Vargas in a high tone.

“Of course is working,” replied the figure.

“Work? So, you work for Nenad?” don Vargas' question was met by applause from another man. At first Don Vargas could not see clearly the clapping figure. However, over time the figure hiding in the darkness came forward and showed his face. Someone who was standing next to the first man.

Don Vargas watched the two people who were already standing gallantly before him. He recognized one person as Lionel, while another was of course Nenad. Don Vargas was able to remember the exact same face as the photo that Adriano had sent. “So, you're now working for Nenad. Is that right, Lionel?” the man with the graying hair was laughing heartily.

“To be exact is I work on anyone who is willing to pay me,” replied Lionel casually.

“I paid him a lot, more than you ever gave him,” timpal Nenad mocked.

Wrathfully, Don Vargas moved his gun muzzle towards Nenad. Before he could pull the trigger, Lionel first stuck a dagger that he had been hiding behind the sleeve of the shirt. The dagger, which had originally been tucked under the wrist, had now slashed the back of Don Vargas' hand. The incision was so deep that Don Vargas screamed in pain and dropped his gun.

“Stupid! I'm so stupid! I thought Nenad would be alone! Adriano told me that Nenad has been destroyed! I thought he had no one and nothing else!” racau Don Vargas non-stop.

“You're wrong, Old Man! I still have loyal Lionel,” taunted Nenad while laughing loudly.

Don Vargas grimaces. Blood poured out from the back of his torn hand. The ringing of pain then turned into laughter. “After you say? Lionel is only loyal to the money,” reply him with a stingy hold of pain.

“Look, we have the same hand condition,” calmly, Nenad showed one of his deformed hands and full of seam wounds. “Friends of Matteo de Luca who made me this way. Do you know him?” ask Nenad.

“Friends Matteo de Luca?” a glimpse of Don Vargas' thoughts drifting on Adriano. He paused for a moment, then chuckled softly. “It's so funny this world. How destiny is constantly toying with us,” he said with a straight look at Lionel who was more silent. “I used to pay Lionel to take the life of Matteo de Luca. He was one of the four shooters I hired to kill that handsome guy from Italy.”